


comeback king

by stardustspeedway



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Minor Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-01 20:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustspeedway/pseuds/stardustspeedway
Summary: If you can`t beat `em, just make the good boys go bad.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 'the other side of the sky' event, I did what I do best and completely ran away with an idea, and that idea was delinquent Percy. If there`s anything I love more than percygran it`s nerdy boy/delinquent boy.

A gaggle of schoolgirls crowd at the gate, birdlike laughter chirping at the rambunctious display of male testosterone.

This scene was hardly uncommon in high school anyway, especially among the boys. A tousle here, a little brawl there. Nothing to see here. It was just harmless fun, gossip that would entertain for the day and fade in the wake of the newest sensation.

A bandaged boy had stepped in to defend the poor student and the fun was quickly put to an end, the crowd dispersing quickly now that there was nothing to look at.

There were a lot more fights these days. Good news for all the boys and girls standing and watching, but bad news for the victims. Nameless kids getting caught into the crossfire, ending up on Twitter later that day in a flurry of comments ("Did you hear B-kun got beat up today?" "And yesterday it was A-chan!") because as long as it wasn`t them, it was pretty exciting

The student council had to do something, right?

It was more fun when they didn`t, though.

The period of silence from the disciplinary committee continued to yawn, but the brawls quickly grabbed the attention of the students who took it upon themselves to step in when the rule makers looked the other way.

Percival spots one of those very people in the distance.

One of his own, a second year who was all scratched up and being stared down by someone in a neatly pressed uniform — not just _any_ of the student council members, but the president himself.

He seemed to arrive long after the scuffle had settled; both victim and assailant nowhere to be seen, Gran had no evidence before him besides a boy that was outside of the classroom during school hours.

"You`re late for class."

A curt statement uttered in complete disinterest.

"Please, he was just running a little late today!" A girl standing beside the troublemaker pipes up suddenly and gives Gran a beseeching look. "Besides, he`s not cutting class on purpose. Actually, he was helping someone —"

"Cut it out, sis," the roughed up delinquent cuts her off abruptly and elbows his way past Gran.

"I wouldn`t do that if I were you," He responds in an eerily calm voice.

"Oh yeah?" Ayer looks over his shoulder menacingly. "Whatcha gonna do about it, goodie two shoes?"

Jessica protests loudly at her brother but the bored look doesn`t budge from Gran`s face, and Percival knows that`s exactly what`s pissing Ayer off. Gran was never phased by any of the delinquents, even the ones that weren`t like Percival`s gang and meant more harm than good.

"Oi, that`s enough." Percival cuts in before another pointless fight can start, placing a hand on the boy`s shoulder. Jessica and Ayer looked up at him, the latter immediately bowing his head in respect. "You`ll do your time in detention after school today, Ayer. Sounds good enough, right Mr. Hall Monitor?"

He`s made an amicable offer, but Gran seems to be more bored than ever.

"That`s what I expected," is Gran`s short missive before he turns and leaves like nothing happened.

"He really pisses me off." Ayer practically spits after him in anger.

"We could actually use his help, you know." Percival leads into the more serious topic at hand. "You had to bail another first year out, didn`t you?"

"You really think the shoe-shining brown nose committee is gonna do anything to help?" Ayer snorts and gestures to the dust left behind by the spectacle he left behind. "Did he do anything about it? We`re clearly the only ones that actually care about this mess anyway. Those teacher`s pets couldn`t give a crap."

"It`s the only avenue we haven`t tried. The least we could do is ask, and if we hear no, then so be it."

Percival didn`t consider the student council their enemies, after all. Only those who truly had bad intentions thought that way. Percival and his gang cared for the student body the same way that the council did, even if their methods were...well, a little more unorthodox.

Percival had already taken it upon himself that he would get to the root of it all. He placed a note in Gran`s shoe locker requesting his presence on the rooftop after school that afternoon.

It was time to strike while the iron was hot.

He fully prepared himself that the student council president wouldn`t show his face at all. Percival is surprised when Gran was waiting there, leaning against the chain link fence. If you could call it 'leaning' — he seemed to barely put any weight on it, as though he wasn`t really there.

"What is it?" Despite facing the opposite direction, Gran seems to take notice of his presence with a voice as calm as the blue sky above. Percival is floored that he regards him like they`re talking about the weather rather than the number one on the disciplinary committee addressing the third year leader of the most renown gang in the academy.

"We need your help." Percival cuts right to the chase. "You saw one of my boys today. He wasn`t cutting class, but he was doing _your_ job." He tries not to be so pointed, but his temper flares just a bit.

"A rival gang from another academy. They like to give us a bad name, really. A true gang is about making a family, not about tearing them apart." He can`t help but get side tracked just a bit; his gang, the ones he playfully calls his "vassals," mean more to him than the world.

"These guys are all about cutting anyone they can down. I`m not talking about petty pranks; they`re targeting the weakest kids and jumping them. Yet nothing has been done—"

"What you`re saying is," Gran cuts him off, "is that playing by the rules is doing jack shit, so it`s time to take matters into our own hands." A terrible smirk finally cracks his calm mask, and something stirs in Percival`s chest at the sudden break of pretense.

He`s stunned into silence, and Gran seems to be savoring the pause.

"Okay then."

Wait.

It was that easy?

Percival can`t help the soft laugh that escaped his lips, but Gran still doesn`t move an inch. This boy was very strange indeed.

"D`you expect me to believe it`s really that easy? From the student council president, number one hall monitor, A.K.A mister hardass?"

"So?" Gran raises an eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed. Percival does the same.

"You`re always patrolling the halls with a serious look on your face." Percival replies.

"That`s because I`m bored."

He says it so plainly, as if he wasn`t the student council president, the most important student of them all. To the teachers, the school`s pride and joy, and to the students, the guy with a reputation for being — to put it nicely — a total narc.

"I agree with you, you know. It`s not like the council actually does anything." He turns to face the fence, linking his fingers through the tiny holes, looking down with detached envy at the students milling around below without a care in the world.

"When I became student council president, I thought I would be able to change something..." Gran`s voice falters slightly, and the fence rattles beneath his grip.

He looks skyward and seems to be considering something heavy. Maybe the meaning of why the sky is blue, as a long moment of pause drowns them in silence.

Percival stares at the boy so lost in thought as if he were on the other side of plated glass; they were side by side in reality, but this boy seemed so far away from him.

"I don`t really care about any of this." Gran finally breaks the silence with a dismissive sniff, carelessly undoing the red bandana from the arm of his pristine white uniform. "I do what they tell me to do. That`s what I`ve always done."

He casts away, the wind lifting it far above the chain link fence caging them in, off into the blue sky.

Gran turns back to Percival, leveling him with a serious look. For the first time since they`ve locked eyes, he can see a fire inside.

"Whatever you want to do, count me in."


	2. Chapter 2

Any students left on campus were crammed into their after school clubs and sports, leaving the third floor bathrooms completely deserted. There was no better place to execute part one of Percival`s plan to transform this cute little nerd into a too-hot tamale.

"First things first. Let`s work on your wardrobe."  
  
"I`m not styling my hair into a pompadour."   
  
"No, not that," Percival raises an eyebrow. "Do you really think we dress like the guys in manga?"   
  
The wicked grin from before makes a return. It`s clear from the distant look in his eye that Gran is painting over him in his mind, re-creating a custom delinquent Percival with a flowing jacket over arbitrary bandages on his naked torso, a 70s pompadour, and a wooden sword.

OK, the wooden sword part wasn`t that far off. He is the captain of the kendo club after all.   
  
"We don`t dress like _that_ , but we definitely don`t dress like you either. The way you wear your uniform is a dead giveaway,” Percival comments as he fiddles with Gran`s collar. “Nobody does up all the buttons." He waits for the sarcastic response but hears nothing and surmises it's because Gran realizes Percival is right (as always) but he certainly won`t vocalize it.

Quite the peculiar boy.

"Don`t worry, I`m just messing with your clothes a little bit. You don`t have to dye your hair or anything."  
  
"Did you dye your hair?" Gran finally breaks his silence as Percival loosens his tie.   
  
"Nope, it`s natural. Got me teased through first year until people realized they didn`t wanna mess with me." 

Percival manages to earn a short, disinterested sounding hum, but Gran`s curious eyes give him away as they rove over Percival`s red hair, down to his nose and cheekbones. He wonders what Gran is thinking of all these obvious signs of a halfie. Percival is used to this kind of scrutiny, though, and opts to focus more on the task of opening Gran's blazer and untucking his shirt.   
  
"There. A few tweaks here and there and _voilà_ , no more Mr. Tight-ass."   
  
Most people would take offense (see: Ayer) but Gran took it in stride with soft laughter. He gazes raptly into the mirror of the boy`s bathroom, assessing Percival`s handiwork.   
  
"I really do look different..." His eyes round in awe; he`s never assessed himself like this before. The realization that Gran thought so little of himself to even think of his personal image strikes Percival so viscerally, his hands move on their own. The third year leans in one more time, running his fingers through Gran`s hair, a blink-and-miss-it spark running down his arm. 

He tries pushing back Gran`s bangs for a moment. Somehow, what makes Percival looks more rakish makes Gran look even more like a complete nerd. He settles for a little more fluffing instead, until brown curls are sticking out this way and that.

_Perfect._

"There you go,” Percival announced with his usual pride. “See, I couldn`t pull that off. But it looks good on you. That`s how style works."

A style that could effectively be defined as "bed head" suited Gran well. It made him look like he just didn`t care, which wasn`t that far off the mark, but in the “cool bad boy” way where they absolutely cared too much about making it look like they didn`t.  
  
Gran sizes himself up once more, rather unbothered after being pushed and pulled around like a dress up doll, before looking back at Percival.   
  
"I like it."

It`s simple, but hearing the slightest hint of happiness in his voice is more than enough for Percival. It was the first time since they met that he sounded something other than bored. Or was it boredom? Now that he`s spent an hour messing around in the bathroom with the student council president, Percival realized that Gran sounded...tired.

The bell rings, cleaving the golden moment. Something in Gran changes at the sound. Its chime is just a regular sound for most people, but Percival notices the way his shoulders crinkle his blazer. He hurriedly fixes his buttons and tie, smoothing his hair back to normal.

His body shows no reluctance towards reverting to a dull gray, but the pained look on his face tells Percival more than enough.  
  
"Student council?"   
  
"Home." Gran says in a voice that makes it sound like that`s even worse. Percival can relate.   
  
"...Listen,” Percival leans against the sink-lined counter casually, sliding a clothed elbow right into a puddle of water. “Do you have any free time tonight? You know, between all that homework."   
  
"I`ll sneak out." Gran answers so quickly and calmly that Percival nearly falls over.

Where does he get off like that? With those long silences, plain tones, and then out of nowhere he betrays everything that Percival — and perhaps everyone — else expects from him?

Percival has a strange feeling he should just throw all of his preconceived notions out the window.  
  
"Sneaking out, huh? You`re a man after my own heart.” He pulls out his phone, revealing an uncharacteristically cute charm, courtesy of his brother, hanging from the case. “Give me your number and we`ll meet up later."

The two shake their phones and exchange LINE IDs. Gran manages a tiny smile that Percival returns for a pleasant but fleeting moment, since Gran has to hurry himself home.

Gran doesn`t want to break curfew, as Percival does anything he can to purposely miss his. 


	3. Chapter 3

Gran takes a big gulp of the strawberry flavored Calpis that Percival bought him from the vending machine. 

"I`m more of an Aquarius man myself," Percival attempts to make small talk as they sit on the steps of the arcade. They can bring their drinks inside, but Gran was out of breath from his big getaway. Gran insisted he was fine, but Percival shoved the bottle in his face anyway. Pot couldn`t say no to kettle, so the two took some time to lounge around and watch the cars roll by. 

"I like Pocari," Gran responds quietly approximately three minutes later. Better late than never. 

Percival isn`t offended by such an (erroneous) opinion. Instead, he responds with a chuckle, "Most people tell me they taste the same." 

“What? Of course they taste different.” An almost unnoticeable smile forms on Gran`s face before he finishes his drink. Try as he might to keep the stoic face he was known for, his natural personality seemed to peek out every moment it got the chance. 

The two finally make their way inside and are instantly enveloped in heat. Rapid pulses radiate from the machines, electric discharge mingling with layers of adrenaline bursting from the players at their cabinets. Some were dancing to clashing rhythms while others mashed buttons with passionate fixation in their eyes. Everyone was in their own little world, but they were united in their fever. 

Most people would be overwhelmed by the myriad sounds melding into dissonance, further exacerbated by a million multi-coloured lights vying for attention. Gran, however, has fallen in love at first sight. His eyes dart around like a kid in an amusement park as Percival guides him past the front filled with crane games stuffed with figures and plushes. 

Right next to suit-clad salarymen rapidly tapping buttons on washing machine looking contraptions are two neat rows of machines sitting back to back. This is the real meat — the fighting games. 

"Ever played one of these babies?" Percival taps the top of a brightly colored cabinet. Gran shakes his head.

"Alright, sit down on the other side. You`re playing against me, champ." He slides a couple hundred yen into the slots and presses start.

For someone who`s never been to an arcade before, Gran picks up the motions fast and manages to move through the character select without any babying. “I play video games sometimes,” Gran sniffs, already picking up Percival`s impressed aura. “I`m not completely hopeless.” 

His cursor immediately gravitates to the protagonist of the game. He looks rather plain, but his versatile moveset makes him a prime choice for beginner and master alike. 

Percival smiles. That suited Gran a little too well.

His character of choice, on the other hand, is the holy knight of fire. A style that focused on strength and stunning the enemy. And, in Percival`s opinion, he was the coolest looking character on the roster. 

The screen flashes with numerous superfluous declarations of battle, and Gran`s character leaps into battle instantly, landing a stunning hit on Percival. He`s just tall enough to steal a glance over the arcade cabinet to see the starry eyed look on Gran`s face. 

He was having fun. 

"Good job, rookie," Percival teases. "But that`s just beginners luck!" He lands a retaliating hit, and the two become feverishly immersed as Gran attempts to figure out what the buttons mean, quickly learning how to defend before Percival can reduce him to ashes. 

"You`re a fast learner," Percival compliments after feeding the machine through a few rounds. Gran had won the first time, and even though Percival beat him twice after, the last one was extremely close. 

"It was fun," Gran has no problem admitting it, looking ready for another round. "But don`t you think it wasn`t fair that you didn’t let me learn the buttons?" 

"What are you talking about? It`s way more fun when you have no idea what you`re doing." 

"Is that your way of telling me you never bothered to learn yourself?" 

"You`re damn right." 

The two share a private moment of laughter before giving up their seats to another pair waiting behind them. Percival thinks about showing him one of the easier rhythm games, but Gran has already been sucked in by the siren song of the UFO catchers. 

"Gran?" Percival leans in to see what it is he has his heart set on. Gran`s gaze doesn`t budge, captivated by a plush of an impossibly soft looking sleeping cat on the other side of the glass. 

The gap between the boy he met earlier that day and the boy he sees now is absolutely astounding. You`d never imagine his default was a dead-eyed look on his face accompanied by soft-spoken words. Here, he truly looked his age, and he was very much in love with a stuffed cat. 

Something in his chest tightens, and Percival wordlessly motions Gran to the side so he can put in a 500 yen coin. 

"What are you doing?" Gran asks over the din of chimes. 

"I`m going to show you how good I am at crane games," Percival answers cooly. A very decent cover up, if he does say so himself. 

And show off he does, tapping the side of the plush with the arm of the crane, knocking it down on his second try.

"I thought you had to pick it up with both of the claw arm thingies." Gran says with an earnest amount of awe as he holds the plushie reverently in his hands.

"That`s what they want you to think," Percival responds like an all knowing sage instead of a teenager who`s exceptionally good at arcade games. He has a cool image to maintain after all. A cool image that instantly goes south when he sees Gran press the kitten plush to his face. 

He`s... 

_ He`s so cute.  _

"I should probably go home now." Outside the arcade, Gran looks at his phone to check the time and any angry text messages. "He hasn`t noticed yet, but I don`t want to take any chances." 

"Your dad?" Percival probes just a little. He doesn`t want to scare him off. 

"Yeah..." Gran sighs. As silence falls between them, half-coherent chatter and engines fill in the gap as the two boys stand in a sea of city lights. It`s busy this time of night. Gaggles of friends are headed towards the Joysound across the road, others to the mall, and some on the lonely trudge home. 

"He`s not a bad dad, it`s just…” Gran breaks the heavy moment of silence and words suddenly tumble out, one after the other. “He got way too serious about my education after my mom died, and—" He cuts himself off by stuffing his face into the cat plush out of sheer embarrassment. 

Percival can`t understand mumble-speak, try as he might, so he leans over Gran`s shoulder. "What`s wrong?" 

"I just met you today and here I am, dumping my life story on you," Gran admits with a hollow laugh, his voice muffled by the soft fur of the cat.

"Listen, it really doesn`t bother me at all." Percival, awkward as he is at comforting, manages to put a hand on Gran`s shoulder. "I mean, we`re friends now, right?" 

"We are?" Gran peeks up from the plush, a single brown eye glimmering in the night. 

"Of course we are." His hand engages in a sneak attack with a gentle poke at Gran`s middle, earning an indignant squeak. It melts into a laugh, and the small smile from earlier grows ever so slightly. 

"Thanks, Percival..." Gran looks up at him with what Percival describes later in his fond memory as the first time he`s seen comfort in the boy`s eyes. "Then, I`ll see you at school tomorrow." 

As he waves after the boy on his way to the train station stairs, Percival stands frozen under the stars blotted out by the million lights of the city. He can`t seem to move as he stares at the fading outline of Gran`s silhouette, feeling the strangest tug in his bones to just run after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the corner of town in this chapter is based on the one down the road from my college in Japan where I would religiously play rhythm games whenever physically possible. ily port24


End file.
